


The Perfect Gift

by ShebasDawn



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 14:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShebasDawn/pseuds/ShebasDawn
Summary: Satinalia is the perfect season to give gifts to those dearest to you, but sometimes the ones that matter most are also the most difficult to give. Luckily, the Inquisitor is about to get a little help from a friend.





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hot_elf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/gifts).



Max plunged his daggers into the giant spider almost mechanically. Suddenly, Bull yelled out, "Inquisitor! Duck!" The Qunari crouched without looking around. It was a good thing, too, as he caught a glimpse of a stream of acid fly just overhead, hitting the cavern wall and instantly starting to sizzle and eat into the rock.

He stood and turned just in time to see Bull smash the offending creature with his hammer. Guts flew everywhere, painting everyone in the party. General cries of disgust were heard all around, but at least that was the last of them. They trekked back out into the relative light of the Storm Coast's shoreline. Bull gave him a puzzled look. "What's up with you, boss? It's like you aren't paying attention today."

"It's not like I have eyes at the back of my head you know," Max retorted to hide his embarrassment. The truth was, he  _had_  been distracted. The creatures weren't anything they hadn't encountered before, and his mind had wandered back to a conversation he'd had earlier in the week before they'd left Skyhold.

_Gathered together in the war room with his advisers, Max was sure the conversation around the table was of the utmost importance, but as Cullen droned on, he found his gaze drawn back to Lady Josephine, captivated by the way her skin glowed in the light cast by the candle ever-present on her clipboard. He had memorized every detail of her face; the line of her jaw, strong yet somehow refined; the curve of her cheekbones; the dusty rose color of her lips; the mole just below and to the right which seemed to enhance her beauty instead of marring it._ When the meeting had ended, he'd followed her back to her desk just to chitchat for a while. Even though the diplomat was always incredibly busy, she had made time for him as usual, carrying on a conversation even as she'd continued writing.

This time he'd asked about her native country, Antiva. The way her face had lit up as she'd described it made it clear how much she missed the place, especially her family home in Antiva City. She'd become even more wistful as she'd recalled her favorite area — the waterfront of Rialto Bay.  _"That's what I miss most,"_ she had said _, "the sea crashing against the maze of the docks_... _When a breeze stirs the trees in the garden, I sometimes pretend it's the sound of the surf."_ That admission had pulled her back into the present, her cheeks colored with embarrassment, but Max had thought it sounded beautiful.

He wished he could take her back there somehow, to revisit the place she loved so well, especially since Satinalia was fast approaching — it would be the perfect gift. But there seemed to be no way at the moment, and he'd racked his brain trying to think of something else that would be as meaningful to her, but so far had come up empty-handed.  _It would be best for the gift not to be too extravagant, anyway. I don't want to put her in an uncomfortable position._ All the presents Max had found for the others were small, in keeping with the group's agreement. If his gift to Josephine stood out, she might realize his feelings for her were more than platonic. He didn't want to put such a gracious woman in the position of having to let him down gently.

Max knew there was no way she'd ever feel the same about him. How could she? He was a Qunari — ugly by human standards — and she was ethereal in her beauty. He was a mercenary, elevated to his present position by accident only, and she was nobility, used to moving in the rarest of circles, just as at home at the Orlesian royal court as he was sleeping by a campfire. She was refined, elegant, intelligent, gracious, and could be so witty when she let her diplomat's mask slip for a moment — a rare occurrence, but one that always delighted him. He was the opposite of all those things. Besides, her family meant the world to her; Max couldn't imagine they'd ever approve of a relationship between the two of them. No, best just to be content to share her company when he could. No point in ruining it by letting her know his true feelings.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Max went through the motions of setting up camp with his team, eating whatever was in the pot — stew? soup? — without tasting it.

"Hey, boss."

A hand pushed him none-too-gently, and he almost fell off the log he was using for a seat. Max looked around to see Cassandra and Dorian had already bedded down for the night, the latter probably with much grumbling and complaining, if he knew the mage. Bull was staring at him.

"What?" Max asked in annoyance.

"What?" Bull echoed in disbelief. "What's gotten into you, that's what. You were a million miles away just now — have been for weeks."

"Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind, what with the job of saving the world being placed on my shoulders and all," Max said, trying misdirection instead of denial. He was hoping to fool the Ben-Hassrath agent, but Bull's expression told him he'd failed miserably.

"You've been Inquisitor for months now, and this preoccupation is much more recent. No, I think something else on your mind...Or some _one_."

The knowing look Bull gave him irritated Max even more, and he went with that, disregarding the spike of fear that lanced through his belly at the same time. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't have time for relationships," he huffed.

Bull threw his head back and laughed, and the Inquisitor glanced at his two sleeping companions anxiously. If Bull didn't keep it down, they'd awaken, and the last thing he needed was more questions.

"It's a woman, isn't it?"

"No! ...What makes you say that?" Max realized — too late — that his question just confirmed his friend's suspicions by the mischievous grin that appeared on the other Qunari's face.

"And there's only one woman it could be...Josephine!" Bull proclaimed triumphantly.

Max rolled his eyes, trying for disdain. "She's one of my advisors — of course I would spend a lot of time talking to her!"

"I never said anything about  _how_ I knew, did I, Inquisitor?" Bull asked, a sly look on his face. The man was unshakable, like a bloodhound on the scent.

Boxed into a corner, Max came clean, his shoulders slumping. "Okay, she  _has_ been on my mind...a bit."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that, boss! We all need to blow off steam every now and then — keeps us sane. I say, go for it!" Bull said, nudging him again.

"It's nothing like that; I really care for her." Max sighed. "Look, I don't want to talk about it...I'm going to get some sleep."

Bull shook his head but kept quiet. Relieved, the Inquisitor bedded down for the night.

oOo

Max sat in his room at Skyhold, carefully cleaning a conch shell he'd found on the beach of the Storm Coast. He'd gotten up early the morning after his conversation with Bull, unable to sleep now that someone knew his secret, and had taken a walk down the shore, ostensibly to find more driftwood for the fire, but really just becoming more and more anxious as he tried and failed to think of something to give Josephine.

The tide had been at a low ebb that morning, and he'd found the conch just above the waterline. It had survived its trip to the shore miraculously unharmed — there wasn't so much as a chip or crack in the shell. Max had remembered how a mage he'd once worked with had told him you could hear the sea if you put one of these to your ear. The Qunari hadn't been sure if the man had been in earnest or just having him on — he'd been a lot like Dorian in that respect — but he'd been delighted to find out it was true and had immediately thought of Josephine. Max had managed to hide the conch in his pack before anyone else noticed.

The shell was a tight spiral that gradually grew larger until finally opening up. The farther it was from the center of the conch, the thinner the shell became until the ends were like delicate porcelain, the pink faded almost to pure white, and he marveled again that it had remained intact. The opening was a delicate scalloped shape that reminded him a bit of the ruffles on the arms of the shirts Josephine liked to wear. He polished all the smooth inner surfaces of the conch until they shone, bringing out the delicate pink that shaded to a rosier color the closer the shell got to the inner spirals of the conch, until it curved and disappeared out of sight.

Once he was done, he flipped the shell over and started polishing the outside of it. The surface here was rougher, and the color was a mottled orange that seemed dull and rough, but as he patiently worked on it, it started to shine with a glow reminiscent of the colors of a setting sun.

Max held it up, admiring his handiwork, then painstakingly wrapped it. He was too embarrassed to ask Vivienne to do it, although she had wrapped most of his other presents, and they had turned out beautifully.

The results were...well, awkward really. It looked as if a young child had wrapped it. His heart sank.  _What was I thinking, anyway? A_ shell _, for someone who is used to the fancy things in Orlesian courts?_  It was ridiculous, of course, not nearly good enough for her.  _Just like me_ , he thought gloomily.

oOo

Max dressed carefully in the clothes he'd worn for the ball at the Winter Palace of Empress Celene. The party was tonight, and everyone was dressing up for the occasion. Giving himself one last look in the mirror, his gaze happened on the gift, still wrapped and sitting on the table. Try as he might, he just couldn't get up the courage to put it under the tree, even though he hadn't thought of anything else to give her. He could only hope that there would be so many presents to open she wouldn't notice one missing.

He stepped out of his bedroom, pausing to admire the holiday tree that towered over the throne, as he had every day since it had been erected. They had taken to calling it the Hope Tree because everyone in Skyhold had contributed something to decorate it — something that symbolized the things they loved, the things they were fighting for, both individually and as a whole. And the smell of the evergreen hid the musty odor that usually haunted the castle, making the area more inviting.

The Great Hall was breathtaking — long tables had been set up along either side of it, the wood polished to a glow. The candles on the tables were lit, as well as the braziers that were set at intervals along the hall. The tables had already been set, and the silver utensils, crystal glasses, and china plates sparkled in the candlelight.

This was all Lady Josephine's doing, of course. She had insisted that the Inquisition needed it anyway, to entertain the nobles and visiting dignitaries that they were now receiving daily. Max could never keep up with them all and dared not greet anyone by name. At least tonight would be filled with people he knew. People were starting to filter in already, and Max headed out to mingle.

oOo

The food had been delicious and plentiful, and by the time they were done, Max was starting to worry he'd lose a button or two from his jacket. Josephine supervised the cleanup and directed everyone to pull up a chair and gather around the tree, then had Kieran hand out the presents. He did so with a sparkle in his eye and an excited smile on his face. It was the first time Max could remember seeing the boy acting like anything other than a miniature adult.

Cassandra opened the present he'd given her first. "A new issue of Swords and Shields?" She looked up, and Max could swear the Seeker was blushing. "But...but, I don't read this stuff," she sputtered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cassandra," Max said, reaching for it. "I'll find someone else who wants it, then."

"No!" she yelled, shrinking back. "That would be ungrateful of me," the Seeker added haughtily, chin held high. "Thank you, Inquisitor."

His, 'You're welcome' was almost drowned out by the laughter in the room. Cassandra set the book aside, but as other gifts were opened, Max would catch her taking little peeks at it here and there.

To Dorian he'd given a bottle of very old Carnal, 8:69 Blessed that he had found during his travels. "An Orlesian liqueur for the daring, or those who wish to seem so. Said to enhance sensation. And at the bottom, an erotically carved peach pit. The design is plain, but the bottler assures that the act of carving was scandalous," Dorian said, reading the description on the label. "Inquisitor, you know me so well," the mage said with a wink. "Thank you."

Bull was delighted with the skull of the High Dragon he had helped Max kill — Vivienne had refused to wrap that one for him, so he'd had one of Bull's Chargers do it — and Cullen seemed equally delighted with his sword. Max had found it in a cave in the Frostback Basin, the metal of the blade the white-blue of an ice floe, with an ornate handle fashioned to represent Hakkon, the lord of war and winter.

It took quite a while to unwrap all the gifts that had been exchanged. All in all, everyone seemed happy with what they'd received, and there were smiles all around. The evening was only marred by the fact that Max hadn't given something to the one person he cared for most. He had tried to watch Josephine's face unobtrusively to see if she would notice, but of course, her expression had given no indication, and it was impossible for him to tell.

As everyone was getting up, Leliana put a hand on his arm. "Inquisitor, may I have a word?" she asked softly. Max followed her to a quiet corner of the room.

The spymaster folded her arms, her expression placid, but her eyes icy. "I thought I had made myself clear during our earlier conversation, Inquisitor — I told you not to hurt Josephine, and yet I just watched you do it! You didn't even bother to get her a gift, after all the thoughtful ones you gave everyone else?! How  _could_ you? How could you hurt her so?"

The very idea made Max's heart ache. "But, the only thing I can think to give her isn't nearly good enough!"

Leliana's face softened as the Inquisitor explained. When he finished, she said, "I think that's a lovely and thoughtful gift, and one Josie would treasure. You  _must_  give it to her!" And before he could even protest, his spymaster raised an arm and waved it overhead. "Josie! Josie, could you come here a moment? The Inquisitor has something for you."

He was horrified to see Josephine walking their way, and even more so as Leliana gave him a little push towards her friend, then vanished into the shadows.

"You wanted to see me, Inquisitor?"

He stood there, tongue-tied for a moment. Max's heart was thudding in his chest, and he wished he could disappear the way his spymaster had, but the Inquisitor knew if he tried to weasel out of it, Leliana would make sure Josephine got the gift — one way or another. He took a deep breath. "Yes, I have something to give you." Panic arose at the thought that others might witness her reaction to his present, and he added, "But we have to go to my room."

Mortified as he realized how that sounded, Max blurted, "That's not how it sounds!" and then realized she probably hadn't thought that at all, but now probably was. His face heated up, and he was profoundly grateful that Qunari blushes were almost imperceptible.

Her's however, was not. Nevertheless, she was as gracious as always. "I assure you, the thought never crossed my mind. I'll be happy to accompany you, but you know you didn't need to get me anything." She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and Max led the way, too worried about what else might come out of his mouth to say anything at all.

oOo

He watched anxiously as she opened his present. "A conch-"

"I remembered how you said you missed the sound of the sea," Max interrupted before she could say anything else, "and I thought this might ease your homesickness a bit. If you put it to your ear, you can hear the ocean."

But she was already raising the shell to her ear, her face a picture of delight. "Yes, I remember." Her eyes closed for a moment as she listened, a soft smile on her face. "It's lovely. Thank you so much, Inquisitor."

"I know I'm not good enough for you-" Max stopped, horrified. He had meant to say, 'I know  _it's_  not good enough for you', but had blundered.

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Pardon?"

Max's heart sank. Might as well explain, now. "I mean, I know someone like you deserves something better than a  _shell_  for a gift...It's just...you are very special to me, and I wanted to give you something that would be meaningful to you, but I couldn't find anything worthy of you.

"I understand you could never feel the same," he hurried on. "Don't worry, I realize you're way out of my league — you are a noble, I am common; you are everything that is beautiful, I am ugly; you are gracious and kind, and I...I was a mercenary."

His gaze had dropped as he'd spoken, but now she lifted up his chin. Josephine's eyes, which had been the green of a stormy sea only moments ago, were now the color of smoke. "You  _are_  a beautiful person. Tonight, I watched the eyes of everyone light up as they opened your gifts. You couldn't have done that if you didn't know and care for them. You are a strong leader, yet compassionate, thoughtful and kind...and you are more of a gentleman than many who hold the title of 'lord'."

She hesitated, withdrawing her hand as her cheeks colored again. "I did not wish to presume you harbored any feelings for me...But, I would very much like for our relationship to be closer, if that is what you wish."

Overcome with joy, Max pulled her into a kiss, and everything else fell away. His world narrowed until it was just the two of them...and it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> The Perfect Gift is a Secret Santa present for Hot Elf. I'm so sorry it took so long for me to publish this, Hottie! Life just got...a bit difficult this year.
> 
> Thanks to the awesome Suilven! She not only beta read for me, but really helped me to create and develop this story! *hugs*


End file.
